What band and what album…Rolling Stone Magazine….the number one album of all time.

This van thing and the “get a new car dad” thing is getting to be a bit much. A new Ford F150 is about 32,000 and a used car comes with as they say, “someone else’s problems.” I can get the POS white van’s transmission fixed for 2,000 and it’s got air bags (that have never been deployed in its life time- they should work shouldn’t they?) and will be all set with new air conditioning, tires and now transmission. I do need to do something about the rear view mirror that keep falling off. I have fixed it with rear view mirror glue from Autozone (did you know there was such a thing…there is) and yet it falls off every so often and I re glue it. Maybe I need a better brand or better rear view mirror glue remover…maybe that’s the problem.

So I say to the transmission guy, ” Hey while you got the van is it possible to fix the rear view mirror? It keeps falling off.”

“We don’t do that sort of thing,” he replies.

Okay the van is at the transmission place and I have asked the guy to give me a few days to consider my options. If I don’t get it fixed then it will have be towed to somewhere as a donation. If I get it fixed I can have it to give me time about a new car and if I trade it in or give it away it is obviously more valuable working than not. I also have in the back of mind that if the transmission is good, the van is good and I don’t have to worry about carrying around wet dogs and something getting messed up. I’d worry myself sick in new car I begin to think. Where would I throw the empty water bottles, where would Penelope sit, would I have to wash it from time to time or not carry potting soil in it? What about the trash I take to the dumpster at my office? It was a lot to ponder all the while working and doing surgeries throughout this past week.

Well the car was taken to the transmission guy on a Monday and by Wednesday there had been no call from transmission guy. However, once he did return my call everything then became urgent. Messages from the shop, ” What do you want us to do,” would be the message on a sticky note in an area that I work in my office. The a phone message to me while I was doing surgeries in our surgery center, ” The transmission guy said to give him a call.” In other words, ” Your POS van is taking up space at my shop and you need to either let me fix it or tow the POS somewhere else.” Pressure for the decision…fix it or let it go.

I could not let it go. To me it was like a wounded pet that I had been through so much with and at risk for being euthanized at the Humane Society. I just could not let it just end this way. I decided to get it fixed and then reassess my options. I did not tell my wife of my decision. I just did not mention the van except that it was currently residing at its towing destination.

That Sunday at church I see one my neighbors who was an usher on this particular day and was the person who called Karen to tell her that the police were converging on my van to impound it.

As he hands me a bulletin he says,” John you really should get a new car.”

“Thanks David. I’ll take that in consideration,” I say.

As it turns out my son had spent the night at our house the evening before the van died and on his way to work sees me stranding and offers to help me, but I waved him on stating that the tow truck was on the way. He calls his mother, ” Dad should really get a new car mom. This isn’t funny anymore.”

My daughter calls me about something else on Sunday evening and says she’s heard about the van and asks what kind of car did I think I’d be getting.

“So what kind of car or truck are you thinking about getting dad? This is a good time to do something you should have done long ago.”

Silence.

“Don’t you tell me you are getting that van fixed. Don’t you dare tell me that. Are you stupid?” my daughter asks.

“Well, I think I will get it fixed and that will give me some time to figure out some things. I don’t like to make decisions quickly if I don’t have to.”

“Does mom know about this?”

“No.”

So the next morning we are out on the porch and I am reading the news and giving highlights of current affairs to my wife , which she may or may not appreciate, and out of the blue I get the old refrain of a question.

“John, what are you going to do with the van?”

“I was hoping you would not ask,” I say.

To be continued (I have written three endings to this sorry post and each time when I went to post it lost what I wrote so I’ll finish later. I am a bit bored by this anyway as I am sure you are.)